


Rock, Paper, Scissors

by myhamartia



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Coffee, College student!Armin, Convenience store meetings, Fluff, M/M, Rock paper scissors battles over a can of coffee, jeanmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:31:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6956575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myhamartia/pseuds/myhamartia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span>     The young man rolled his neck from side to side as he pulled open the glass doors of the little convenience store down the block from his apartment building. He stepped into the cold building, sighing in pleasure at the relief it offered from the late September heat that had been beating down on the poor college student for the passed week and a half. Temperatures were abnormally high, combine that with his classes being unforgiving and more than a little stressful, Armin was just simply ready to collapse onto his uncomfortable dorm bed and sleep for the rest of the century.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     God, wouldn’t that be amazing?</span>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock, Paper, Scissors

Well… it had certainly been… A week. A very bad one, if Armin was being honest.

    The young man rolled his neck from side to side as he pulled open the glass doors of the little convenience store down the block from his apartment building. He stepped into the cold building, sighing in pleasure at the relief it offered from the late September heat that had been beating down on the poor college student for the passed week and a half. Temperatures were abnormally high, combine that with his classes being unforgiving and more than a little stressful, Armin was just simply ready to collapse onto his uncomfortable dorm bed and sleep for the rest of the century.

    God, wouldn’t that be amazing?

    He shuffled on to the back of the store, winding through the shelves on autopilot. He was here for coffee. Typical, he realizes, but he’ll be damned if he randomly runs out with no substitute. He was not a morning person - or rather, he wasn’t a morning person any other time than the summer, when he didn’t have a numerous class assignments on his back weighing him down and painting dark circles under his eyes.

    His slipper-clad feet make odd noises on the light gray tile of the floor as he hooks a corner and continues down an aisle. His eyes are half closed and he’s groggy from an impromptu nap, but he’s functioning properly(or at least he tells himself that he is), so that’s something.

    There’s one coffee canister on the little shelf.

_ One. _

    His eyebrows furrow as his eyes lock onto it. There’s usually a bigger supply on the shelves. Their supply days were Thursdays, right? It was only Tuesday, he reminded himself. There’d be more in a few days. He reaches out for the red coffee can and wraps his fingers around it at the exact same time that another hand goes for it. The person laced their fingers onto the coffee can just above Armin’s, causing the young man to freeze momentarily.

    He looked at the long, thin fingers for a solid thirty seconds or so until his eyes traced up the hand, wrist and arm to the young man standing next to him. Well, he wasn’t really  _ young _ . He looked to be about Armin’s age, if not maybe a little older. His bright amber colored eyes took in Armin in the exact same way Armin was taking him in, shoulder to head and then a quick once-up from the toes.

    Amirn nearly made a noise in the back of his throat as he realized why he had pegged the man as younger. He looked rested. There weren’t any dark eye bags under his eyes like Armin knew he had. Armin briefly recalled when he didn’t have them, but he shoved that thought aside for a moment because they were both still holding onto the coffee can, fingers just brushing.

    Armin heard a sharp intake of breath as the man’s mind came back to himself. The man’s hand tugged on the can a bit, causing Armin’s eyes to widen a fraction.

Uh-huh.

    He gave a strained smile, though his eyes must have flashed because the taller man was lifting an eyebrow at him and at the same time tightening his grip on the coffee can.

    “I’ll just, -uhm,” Armin muttered, gripping the coffee can with both hands now, bringing it close to his chest, even though now the man had mirrored his movements and now they were both gripping the can between themselves.

    “Hey man,” the guy starts slowly. His tone makes Armin press his lips together firmly. “I touched it first, so…” He tugs it a little his way but Armin holds it firm. He had four papers he needed to get done before Friday. He wasn’t going to  _ survive _ without this damn coffee, and there was no way he was going to give it to this dude who obviously got more sleep than he did. Besides,  _ Armin _ had touched it first. This guy’s fingers were covering Armin’s, clear proof.

    “Look,” Armin starts, a little grimace in place. He nodded forwards, to the canister. “I touched it first. My fingers are on bottom.” The man’s eyes flicked down to survey their grip on the coffee can and his lips quirked downwards a bit. He looked back up to Armin’s eyes and then a little half-smile was taking over his lips.

    “I’ll rock-paper-scissor you for it.” His compromise has Armin pausing and lifting an eyebrow.

    Are you serious? What are we, like six? This is probably what Armin would have said if he weren’t sleep deprived. Instead, he just sighed.

   “And loser buys the other’s coffee for the winner,” the man continues, and that has Armin perking up a bit.

    “Okay,” he nodded. “Two from three.” The coffee can is set back on the shelf and they face each other, hands outstretched, fists over palms. Armin inhales through his nose as he waits for the other man to begin counting.

    “One, two, three!” he says.

Rock over scissors. The other dude’s favor.  _ Damn it. _

    “One, two, three,” Armin repeats.

Scissors over paper. Armin won that one.  _ Thank God. _

     “One, two,” the other begins, his fist moving in the air every time he counts. Armin’s mirrors the movement until the other man counted a third time and then Armin was flattening his hand as the symbol for paper.

Paper over rock.

    There was a split second and then Armin was grinning and pumping his fist in the air, calling out a loud “YES”. He grabbed up the can, grinning at the man in victory.

    The other just gave him amused smile before they were walking up to the counter. The man bought him the coffee, per the agreement. As soon as the employee handed over the receipt, the man was scribbling something on the back of it before stuffing it in the white plastic bag that held the coffee. He handed it off to Armin with a yielding smile.

    “Here you are,” he says as Armin takes the bag,

    “Thanks, holy shit!” Armin was grinning as he made his way down the sidewalk. He still had papers to write, and the air outside was still hot as hell, but hey, Armin’s week just got a little bit better.

    That only continued when he caught sight of the receipt later that night, telling of Jean Kirschtein, the man who had bought him his can of coffee - his phone number was scrawled just under his name and it had an odd little emotion flipping in Armin’s stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey friends! It's been a while.  
> Just a little idea I had with our poor little stressed Armin.
> 
> There probably won't be more added to this particular work, but there may be more in this universe somewhere down the line! I suppose it all depends on if I want to take it on.
> 
> I appreciate comments and kudos very much, if you'd like to leave me some!


End file.
